Springtime
by SongoftheDarquePhoenix
Summary: Kakashi contemplates spring, and all his short comings. Team seven reflective.


_**Springtime  
**__**By: Song**_

_Summary: Kakashi contemplates spring, and all his short comings. Team seven reflective. More 'hurt' than 'comfort'.  
A/U: This fic is attributed to the wonderful short story 'The Scarlet Ibis' by James Hurst and the song 'Summertime' by Gorge Gershwin. Inspirations comes from strange places... If anyone can tell me why Sakura being innocent is ironic, you get a cookie. Hints: Botany, stamen, carpel. Think the meaning of the name and what they are used for._

_And no, Kakashi does not think much of himself._

* * *

He remembers the spring. He remembers the pastell flowers that smelled so sweetly. He remembers the cool dew in the early morn. He remembers the warm light that flooded in from his windows.

He doesn't like spring. The smells overwhelmed his sensitive nose, he sparsely could walk in the morning due to the water seeping the heat from his toes, and the light that called him from his only bliss. Instead of a new life and a second chance, to him spring is a reminder of all that he lost. All that once was, but was no longer.

Like his students.

When he was forced to retire from ANBU, and teach, he was not pleased. How could an assassin, like himself be a sensei? It wasn't his job. It wasn't his calling. He had nothing to give the future of the village. If anything, he would destroy it. Each and every time he failed the gennin wannabes, hoping to be returned to an existance he knew.

They didn't have what it takes. They didn't have the thirst to prove themselves, the killer instinct needed to be a ninja, or the driving desire for knowledge. No, they were not ready. None of them were.

And then _they _came. Team seven. Young, stupid, impressionable. Ready to be molded into a future brighter than his past. The Uchiha, looking like the idiot who gave up his own life for less than trash, acting like the less than trash. The unknown Namikaze, looking like the leader and acting like the idiot hero. The flower, looking and acting like the healer.

And himself. The not quite trash, not quite hero, and not quite human, just straw and cloth tied to a beam to stay standing in a barren field.

So much like his past.

He didn't think they would pass. He didn't think they had what it took. He _almost _hoped that they didn't. But then they did. Perhaps he was being soft and maybe they just reminded him far too much of his old team, like life was giving him a second chance, or as if he was taking one. Looking back he should have failed them, or at least given them the same amount of attention, training them together instead of reminiscing. Keeping them from following the road going no where that he traveled. Helping those that needed help, supporting those that needed support, and loving those that needed love. Maybe their failure- _his failure_ was proof of the disaster that he was. A punishment for all the bad choices and selfishness.

Could he really be blamed for wanting to be happy?

And time went by. Weeks and weeks of D rank missions, the occasional solo for himself, and he found his life actually had a meaning. He _enjoyed _spending time with the brats. The mission in the land of waves, the chuunin exams, the mission in the land of snow, the various ins and outs of life as a team.

Kakashi found for the first time in twelve years he actually was capable of love. Love for these three misfits, much like himself. Three who didn't quite belong.

And for a moment, one glorious moment- he believed he had a place in the world. Somewhere where he would be missed and appreciated. A place more than that of an assasin for hire. More than that of a shinobi.

One of a human.

A place to call home.

Like all good things, it came to an end. Slipped away. Out of his grasp, like trying to hold water in cupped hands. Drop by drop, dribbling away and gone before you know it.

But how he felt when he was needed. He never felt such joy.

That made it hurt all the more when the left. On some level he knew it was his fault, not giving them what they deserved. Not being what they deserved. His students moved on to _better, stronger,_ more _worthy_ people.

Not a scarecrows.

Not empty fields.

Not barren land, lacking the nutrient and tender loving care needed to grow.

He didn't give Sasuke a surrogate family to fall on. He didn't provide the encouragement and instruction Sakura needed. He didn't acknowledge Naruto and teach the student striving for recognition. He didn't even tell them how much they meant to him, and now, _now he did not have the chance._

Team seven had become the driving force in his life, and then they left.

They left just like Rin and Obito. Like Sensei and Tou-san.

Like spring.

Yes, Kakashi remembers spring. He remembers Sakura's hair and how it reminded him of the innocence of a child. He remembers Sasuke's cool determination and how it effected even the smallest of matters. He remembers Naruto's gleaming personality and the way he brightened any dark corner.

Spring was the season he learned to live. Spring was the season he began to die.

Kakashi hates spring.

* * *

Fin


End file.
